


in halcyon

by aecusfalcon



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Ignis and Luna are best bros now, Ignis has ptsd, Ignis is an absolute mess, Luna also has ptsd and that's just how it is, M/M, Noct has depression, Pianist Ignis, Trans Ignis Scientia, Updates Monthly, chapter 1 has art, i guess this could be counted as like, icarus analogies from here on babes, ignis has no idea what to do, noct's an astronomer, temporary major character death, verse 3 kfjadlfkajsdl
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-08-25 09:11:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16658302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aecusfalcon/pseuds/aecusfalcon
Summary: He is an eidolon. A phantom taking Noct’s form, his essence, his entirety. It’s Noctis… but it’s not his Noctis. He would have been fine if he hadn’t retained these memories, perhaps this world’s Ignis would have continued on and he wouldn’t be a stranger in his own body.





	1. Eidolon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greek: (n.) phantom look-alike taking the form of a living or dead person

It’s strange. Strange not having to fight, strange not being able to use magic and all the skills he use to have. What’s stranger to him, though, is that he had been granted these memories, (whether it’s a blessing or a curse he’s yet to figure out.) He thinks it a curse in the present, which is susceptible to change any day if he deems it. Yes, he thinks it a curse currently because of a few simple factors.

     One factor was that one moment he was dying yet again, the next he was simply existing in this world. His first memories of being in this plain of existence is that he was in what he’s assuming a college class. Surrounded by people he didn’t know but they knew him as if he’d been there his entire life. He went along with it, of course, not wanting to raise any suspicions. But because of how that happened he now feels like an imposter, as if he hijacked another Ignis’s life. (Yes, he checked to make sure that was his name. Yes, his name is Ignis Stupeo Scientia, thank Astrals. Yes, he was raised by his uncle rather than his parents. That was a relief!) But also he wasn’t sure if he liked this timeline nonsense so of course he dived headfirst into theoretical physics and time and the universe and why must the Astrals make such a fool of him.

     The second is that he _remembers_ but he doesn’t _remember_ at the same time. He remembers his life clearly before and it feels like this current one is the dream.. or is it the other way around? The problem though is that while he knows names he can’t seem to recall faces. As if that part was erased with a dried out eraser. Gods, it drove him _mad._

     The third simple factor is this: Noctis. His name is a broken record in his brain that he can never remove. A symphony of emotions each different time runs through him as he’s forced to remember he dedicated every _breath_ to him. The problem here is this: there is no monarchy. There is no heir apparent. Just big corporations if that counts as royalty in this magicless world. It’s probably just this country? He didn’t look at world affairs yet. (Though he was informed he has a british accent to which he _almost_ replied with “the hell is a british.”) And he cannot for the life of him remember what Noct looked like and…

He has always been in love with him.

And he is very stressed right now.

     He should have just dropped college as soon as he realized he’s _not_ in Eos. Is this why Noct hardly got anything done at home during finals? Ignis is barely awake and that’s because of the miracle of coffee and to think that was only _high school_ Noct had to suffer through.

He could _really_ go for some Ebony right now.

Oh. That’s another factor; there is no such thing as Ebony in this world. Truly, this is the worst timeline.

     He runs a hand through his hair as he turns a page in the book about physics he’s dedicated his afternoon to reading. (He already studied for finals and he’s rather thankful this timeline Ignis chose to be a business major. He knows business, even if the currency is a bit different than the one he’s use to. If he was a history major, on the other hand, well he would be royally screwed.) Truthfully, he was having trouble fully understanding it. Back in Insomnia, Latin was still a common language, it’s what most of the words for places and names were, after all, but here… It’s a dead language which makes reading this all the more difficult. He sighs in frustration and closes the book, taking his glasses off to rub his eyes. When was the last time he slept? A day, perhaps. He leans back in his chair, folds his arms, and closes his eyes. Just… resting his eyes for a little bit.

* * *

“Mind if I sit here?”

Ignis snaps his eyes open. He knows that voice, he would recognize it in any life, any time, any place. He looks to where the voice originated and-

“Noct?” “Sorry I didn’t mean to startle you.”

They pause, both having spoken at the same time.

“Sorry, what was it you said?” Noctis… maybe. It sounds like him and that face, yes, that is the face that he should have never forgotten.

Ignis clears his voice, “Not at all. Go ahead.”

He’s _so_ thankful they spoke at the same time, Noctis might not be his name in this world, and he probably most certainly doesn’t remember him. There’s no familiarity shining in his eyes, no soft smile saved only for him…

It’s Noctis, but not quite.

And he’s not sure how to feel. Normally, he would be _elated_ to finally have found him. But there’s a pang in his heart when Noctis holds out his hand to him. (It should have been Ignis to do that.) And now he knows. This is a curse.

Ignis takes his hand and shakes it.

“My name’s Noctis.”

“Ignis. Pleasure to meet you.”

At least his name is the same.

But oh, how cruel the astrals are, to present Noct to him only for there to be no sliver of recognition for him. Is this heartache?

He swallows it down and forces a smile, letting go of his hand.

“I recognize you from calculus.”

“Is that so?”

“You seemed interesting, are you studying abroad?”

It’s a good thing he did some digging into his own past, otherwise he would be _stumped_ on how to answer. “Yes. I heard this place had some of the best education so I came here… England is my home.”

But it’s not.

“That’s cool.”

“And you?”

“I’m from here, not really that interesting. I use to travel a lot when I was a kid though… I’ve been to Venice, and then Paris. That was an interesting trip.”

Venice. The place that very much resembles Altissia. Should he say he’s been there? In a way he has… “Venice? I’ve been there a couple times. Can’t say I enjoyed my trip much, though.”

“Really? What happened?”

“Oh, I...” Got blinded once, almost died the other time, “I got robbed at knifepoint.” It wasn’t necessarily a lie, he did get robbed _in a way_.

“And then I got into an accident the second time around involving antique blades and fire.” Again, not necessarily a lie.

Noct’s eyes widen, “Really? Damn… Your life sounds exciting.”

“You have no idea…”

“Is that where you got those scars?”

Ah, right, he’d nearly forgotten about them. It must be the god’s testament to his memories remaining intact, which he is becoming more and more convinced is definitely, very much so a curse. He nods, “The man was absolutely mad. He ended up a lot worse than I did though. He sorely underestimated me.”

“Travel a lot, survived a robbery, _and_ can hold your own in a fight? You’ve got it all.”

“I’ve been told that I “have the full package” especially since I can cook _and_ drive, which is a feat for being gay, or so I’ve been told.”

“Oh you’re…?”

Ignis blinks. Right. Not his Noctis. And this is a different world. Right! _Spectacular job_ , Ignis.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to sound judgmental. I mean, I’m bi-” _I already know that, Noct_ \- “I just… you didn’t clock my radar. You seem all regal and stuff.”

“You’re saying I don’t look gay? And here I was trying my hardest…”

“I’m not good at reading people.”

_I know_.

“That’s fine.”

     He can’t stand being around him any longer, not because of what he said, but because it hurts too much. It hurts not seeing the familiarity, not seeing that smile, not being able to tease casually, not being able to even sit _beside_ each other rather than across. It hurts so much he wants to claw out his heart to make it all just _stop_.

_Why?_

Why must he be cursed with these memories?

     He loses himself in the book again, focusing on the words and not the presence before him. He is an eidolon. A phantom taking Noct’s form, his essence, his entirety. It’s Noctis… but it’s not _his_ Noctis. He would have been fine if he hadn’t retained these memories, perhaps this world’s Ignis would have continued on and he wouldn’t be a stranger in his own body.

“Is that a book about the multiverse?”

And he was able to forget, if only briefly, that Noctis was here still.

Ignis nods and closes the book briefly to catch the name, “ _In Search of the Universe_ , by John Gribben.”

“Yeah, I think I skimmed that one, it doesn’t _exactly_ align with my major but it’s an interesting read. I’m thinking about being an astronomer.”

This one catches him off guard, he raises a brow at this signalling him to go on.

“I’ve always loved the stars. When I was a kid I use to sneak outside to stargaze. They’re so mysterious and beautiful and I think I wanna figure out what’s going on up there. Y’know?”

     Oh… he is still naive. The stars are cruel, something Ignis came to terms with oh so very long ago, something he hates now days… It’s sad, when he thinks about it, sad because he remembers sneaking out of the citadel with Noct just to view them. Both unaware of what they mean, unaware of the future they had for them, unaware of how cold and utterly uncaring they are for them. Stars are the symbol of despair and loss to him. But if not for them, had Noct’s destiny not kept him at bay, had he been able to live a _normal_ life, he wonders if this is what he would have liked to do. Ignis smiles sadly and turns his attention back to the book.

“I’m not sure what I want to do with my life, I might just end up taking over my Uncle’s business.”

Noctis turns his head to the side, eyes sparkling and Ignis knows that look. Misses that look. That look he use to always get as a child when he was about to speak about something he loved…

“Well, you’re only 22, it’s not like you have to decide right now. But you look like the kind of guy who’d be good at writing.”

Ignis chuckles and shakes his head, then pauses. He blinks slowly thinking over what Noct had just said.

“I never said I was 22.”

Noctis blinks, too, tilting his head slightly to the side as lips jut out and brows furrow, he does that every time he’s confused. “Oh. You must look 22 then? Sorry, sometimes I say things without thinking.”

Could it be…?

An alarm goes off and Noctis looks at his phone. He gathers his stuff and gets up, “I’ve got class now, nice meeting you Ignis. We should talk again sometime. You seem like a pretty interesting guy!”

“Of course, have a good day.”

And he’s gone…

Ignis’s shoulders slump and he leans forward, resting his elbows on the table and face in his hands.

_It’s not him._

* * *

      It’s funny how he worded it, in retrospect. _My life._ He’s not use to that. He has no idea what to do with it. His whole life prior to this it wasn’t exactly _his_ life, no, it was _never_ his. He lived for Noctis, lived for the crown, and now that neither of those things are present in his life he doesn’t know what to do with all this freedom.

Ignis never really put much effort into his life outside of his job. He had no friends, rather, he kept everyone at arm’s length. All interactions he had outside of their little group was formal and uninviting. He prefered it that way.

But now…

Now he is so lost.

Maybe he _could_ write. Put all the details of his life prior down on paper, it might be an interesting read. But… he’s not sure what the consequences of that might be. Would telling people disrupt the balance? Is there a balance? He should just stick to what the Other Ignis chose in this world.

(Other Ignis… how strange is that. He is still nothing but a stranger leading the life of a man he never knew. He is an outsider.)

     He could continue to pursue the goal of being a politician, but then again he knows nothing of this world’s status. (Which he’s been reading up on a lot. It’s incredible this world- _Earth_ \- hasn’t been plunged into darkness yet. Or it’s already befallen to the starscourge, it just doesn’t plague the sky like it did for them but rather the hearts of men.)

But he doesn’t know. For once in his life he can’t see what his future might have in store and that terrifies him. Is this what life is really like?

* * *

      He’s been too nervous to look through his phone’s contacts, afraid of who he might see, and afraid he’s left friends left on read. He won’t reply, even if he did, because he has no idea who they are. Today, however, his curiosity gets the better of him and he finally decides to open it. He has his Uncle, which is a given, his parents, which is a surprise, and… Nothing?

It seems he’s an even bigger loser with no friends in this timeline than the life he remembers. At least he _had_ friends in Eos. It’s… kind of sad.

What’s even sadder is the apartment he has. It’s messy. Which very clearly means to him that Other Ignis became a slob without the rigid structure of being the Chamberlain, or he was seriously depressed. It could be a combination of both. At least it gave him something to do to keep his mind off of, well, _everything_ really.

So he starts cleaning; it makes him wonder what kind of man he became without structure. From the look of things, he’s been in America for a while, and the fact he still has no contacts on his phone… He lived a lonely existence. Ignis wonders briefly if it ever felt like something was missing from his life.

     By the time he finishes up he’s exhausted, he almost passes out on the sofa but he knows he needs to eat beforehand. It’s not wise to skip dinner, he instinctively pulls his phone out to call Noctis and ask if he had dinner but he stops himself as soon as he turns it on.

“Right…”

It’s hard adjusting.

     He finishes cooking and sits at his table alone, food sitting in front of him and he doesn’t feel hungry, but he knows he needs to eat. Is this how Noctis felt? Back in the day when they were only foolish teenagers, angry at everything and anything… it became routine at one point, unless they got into an argument, that Ignis would come over and cook for them. They would eat together almost every night. And even after leaving Insomnia they still all ate together, so that hardly ever changed. But now?

Now he stares at the empty chair in front of him.

* * *

      Life becomes routine again, he assigns himself things to do to keep himself busy and distracted from the hole where his heart should be. He’s been going to the gym (a good substitute for crownsguard training for now,) and trying to get acquainted with the people around him.

     He hasn’t seen Noctis in a while, which he tells himself he’s thankful for, but in truth he misses him. Today he finds himself in the library again, collecting history books so he can brush up on the past since he seems to have a solid understanding of the present. Once he finds the books he needs he settles down and begins his read.

“Got room for some company?”

Ignis looks up, there he is again… those piercing blue eyes, a smile on his face. And oh, how he only realizes this now. _Life is kinder to you this time around, Noct._

“Of course.”

Noctis sets down his things and pulls out his own books. From what he can tell just looking at the cover and the name it seems to be an astronomy book. “So, you’ve made up your mind on astronomy, I take it.”

“Yeah, I was originally suppose to be following law and stuff but I’ve never been really interested in it. So I switched majors… You figure out what you wanna do?”

“Well… I’d say I’m a talented cook.”

“So you’re gonna become a chef?”

“No, just brainstorming. I did give your suggestion about writing some thought, though. I can’t say I’m the best at storytelling.”

Noctis hums in response and closes his book, leans on one hand and stares at Ignis with those piercing blue eyes. “Is there anything else you like doing? You seem to be the creative type.”

He’s heard many things but that has never been one of them. He was always told he’s the logical, unfeeling, studious type. Nonetheless…

“Well… I play piano regularly.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, but I doubt that’s a career I should pursue.”

“How long have you played?”

“Ah…” technically, he’s played for thirty-seven years, but he’s not even in his thirties yet here, “fourteen years give or take?”

“ _Fourteen years_? Dude, why didn’t you _do_ anything with that? I bet you’re really good.”

“I can play Moonlight Sonata Movement Three, I don’t mean to blow my own trumpet but I’m quite skilled with it.”

“That’s not helping your argument as to why you didn’t do anything.”

The honest answer is that he doesn’t know, he just _got_ here a week or so ago with no knowledge of what was happening or even how he lived his life prior to this. “The family business?”

“That doesn’t sound convincing. Come on, tell me, I won’t judge.”

Ignis lets out a sigh, he forgot how persistent Noctis can be. “I’m… I’ve never had to perform for anyone besides an old friend, my fathers, and my instructor. I’ve not played in a recital, least of all in front of an entire audience.”

There’s a triumphant little smile on Noct’s face, “Ah-hah! You have stage fright!”

“It’s not stage fright.”

“It totally is stage fright.”

“Let’s drop this subject entirely for I do not think I want to recount my embarrassments to someone I’ve hardly met.”

“Fair enough.”

There’s a lull in the conversation and he lets it be, not wanting to say anything more than he has to. He missed this… Noct has always been so easy to talk to, especially after how much they’d been through. But it hurts _so much_ , knowing Noctis will never be able to share those memories with him. He feels like he’s suffocating. It’s _too much_ and he doesn’t know what to say or do because it use to be so different. They use to be able to talk about everything and nothing, to tease relentlessly knowing it was all in good jest, to sit in comfortable silence.

But they can’t do that anymore...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Theus, what the fuck is this."  
> Well, originally it was gonna be "au where person a remembers the original timeline but person b has no memory of it so person a is just quietly super sad." And it was gonna be a short 1k drabble, and it was gonna take place in Verse 2 timeline. But instead it became a "Modern AU but Ignis retains his memories prior and sees Noctis and is quietly super sad." And tbh I'm like? big ??????????????????  
> edit: i was having a lot of problems with writing chapter three and it turns out it was because of an awkward part here in chapter one. had to rewrite a whole page.


	2. Momento Mori

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Remember that you will die.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw blood

Blood splatters upon marble flooring, the deafening silence makes the slow _drip drip drip_ all the worse. It echoes in his mind, reminding him all too clearly of what’s happening. His vision is blurry in one eye, destroyed in the other. How did it come to this? It wasn’t supposed to end this way, never was, not this way. It was going to be different, there was to be peace after all that time in the dark. But that was 13 years ago.

Now his arms are barely holding his king as he trudges forward, his own injuries starting to eat at his stamina. He stumbles forward and falls on the steps before them, dropping Noctis at his side and he gasps for breath. Ignis turns his head to look at Noct’s face, his eyes are half-lidded and his face has paled so much. He’s losing too much blood. Ignis reaches out weakly, putting his hand on Noct’s cheek, his own breath shallow.

“Hold on… a little longer…”

He only gets a weak nod in return, but it’s enough.

Ignis forces himself up and puts one of Noctis’s arms over his shoulder and lifts.

Just a few more steps…

He feels himself starting to black out but he keeps pushing, he has to, to save Noct.

Noct.

Noct.

Noct.

He’s all that matters to him, all he was raised for, all he’s known. It’s why he does anything he does…

More blood spills upon the pristine floor as he pushes himself up a step, then another, and he’s painfully aware that the blood spilling is not his own but his king’s

_Hold on, Noct. Just hold on. Don’t die on me now. Not before I do…_

They reach the top of the stairs and Ignis finds that any energy he had from adrenaline is now gone. He falls again, landing on his stomach, Noct falling onto his side, gaze blank, skin porcelain. Ignis coughs, blood sputtering out and he feels his eyes grow heavy. He reaches a hand out for Noctis’s. Noct. His King. His friend. His love. His all.

He knows he’s too late, knows he’s gone now, his last breath had only a few moments ago. Tears stream down his face and he can’t _reach_ his hand, why is it so far away?

_I’ll see you again soon._

He faintly hears the thrum of powerful magic in his ears, and he closes his eyes.

 

Ignis startles awake, hands flying to his abdomen checking for wounds and sighs in relief when he finds none. He relaxes a bit more when he looks around his room, right, he’s not _there_. He’s elsewhere.

He moves so that he’s sitting over the edge of his bed, hanging his head low and brings a hand up to his head. It’s so much, too much. The other day he got up as he usually had so many years ago, went to his car, and got ready to stop at the Citadel. The problem is this: there is no Citadel, this is not Insomnia, he has no job, and he doesn’t know his way around this town anymore.

It’s sad.

It’s sad because he didn’t give it much thought before, how used to his old life he is and how it makes him feel empty. He’s missing something.

Of course, he knows what he’s missing.

That something is everything.

It must really be a curse, then, to give him memories of everything he once had only for him to lose it all and have to start over. It’s cruel. But perhaps this is the price he paid. _Blood staining his hands. Vision fuzzy._

* * *

  _Why?_

That’s a question that’s been a constant, lately. Why as in why can’t he seem to recall how he ended up in this in the first place? Why as in why he can’t just move on from these incomplete memories? Why as in why did he do what he did?

No use dwelling on it, he’s sure it will come back eventually… he’ll have the answers to the questions he’s had in his mind since showing up, eventually.

He moves to get ready for the day.

What was the last thing Noctis said to him? What had he said before tragedy decided it waited long enough? Maybe that’s what he gets. It’s his own divine retribution for defying the gods and _trying again_. The Astrals care not for them, using a lamb to the slaughter to cleanse themselves of the mistake they made.

A lifetime ago he would have thought _Nothing a god does is unfair for they are what define justice._

But that was just that.

A lifetime ago.

And now he is here, out of the prying eyes of the gods and he knows it’s for the best. His job, _old job_ , had always been to protect Noct. To ensure his survival.

This is one way of doing it, moving him to a place where there is no prophecy he must fulfill. Where there is no starscourge. Where there is no magic. (Maybe that is the root of evil in their land, he wonders at one point, if there was no magic then perhaps all the heartbreak and lives lost would have been spared.)

It seems, though, that the price of such a move is a curse. A curse to Ignis, where he retains such horrible memories that he wouldn’t mind forgetting. A curse to Noctis, where he remembers nothing of memories he would rather hold on to.

He vaguely recalls the day he realized how desperately in love with Noctis he was, is, will always be.

He was 21, perhaps he was too late in realizing his feelings at that point but it mattered not, for it’s hard to ignore the heart. He showed up late to Noct’s apartment that night, he was fast asleep on the couch and for once his place wasn’t in disarray and he thought to himself, “I love him.”

The realization caught him by surprise.

His heart longs for him so much it _hurts_ and he now knows what people mean by heartache.

His day goes by sluggishly, each step feeling heavier than the next and he thinks again to himself, _Now what?_

* * *

 He’s not spending every waking moment dedicating himself to the crown anymore and he has more free time on his hands than he could have ever dreamed of.

He tries to keep his routine up, spending much more time training his body, training with knives though he knows he will never have to call upon the skills again. _Moving on_ , he concludes, _is impossible._

He doesn’t know where to start now that he has a life of his own. Maybe he should seriously consider Noctis’s suggestion… or if he accepts that suggestion is it truly what he wants? Is it his subconscious desperately trying to grab a hold of some semblance of normalcy? Vying for Noct’s approval?

He has autonomy, he can live his life without being told what to do, most of his actions were brought on by his dedication and he only strived to improve himself.

How different would he be had he not been raised for the position he had?

That is something he will never truly know in this life. Not anymore.

He was going to spend his entire life with him. He  almost got what he wanted too, and yet it was ripped from him so suddenly, so abruptly, so violently.

Maybe it’s time to let go, to accept it will never happen, something he should have accepted when he first came to understand his feelings. He was his retainer, it was impossible for him to take _that_ kind of hold in his life. It was improper. Time and time again the universe proves this thought, proves that Noct will forever be just out of reach.

At this point it’s just _mocking_ him, throwing Noct into his life in a world where he could have ended up anywhere.

It’s cruel to get someone’s hope up knowing full well it is nothing but a lie.

* * *

 He moves through his apartment, a cup of coffee in his hand and his phone in the other. He’s scrolling through the news and opens the door to his balcony. He lets out a breath and watches as a cloud leaves his mouth. He use to like winter, how easy it was to bundle up, how hot coffee seemed all the more satisfying, how he could stay curled up, Noctis at his side and he need not a reason to move, rather one to stay.

Now he sees it for what it truly is, bitter and cold and dull. How the air nips at him and he does nothing but shiver, the monotone colors of the snow against the clouded sky filling him with nothing but a sense a sadness. A reminder that all things die eventually.

Ignis slips his phone in his back pocket and leans against the railing, watching as people pass. In a way, it’s a lot like Insomnia, and though less grand it holds the modern appearance all the same, unlike Lestallum.

He watches as a mother stops in her tracks to fix her child’s scarf. There’s a man trying to coax a cat out of hiding with a piece torn off of his sandwich. Ignis smiles at this, it reminds him of Noct and how much he loved animals.

Out of the corner of his eyes he spots it, spots Noctis, eyes piercing his very soul as he just _stands_ there. He’s wearing his raiment, soaked in blood, face caked over, hole in his chest.

Ignis blanches, blinks, and he’s gone. He nearly doubles over, his knees suddenly wishing to buckle under him and he feels sick to his stomach. He grips the railing tight, breathing heavily, ears ringing, pain searing up his left arm in that all too familiar burning sensation. The shattering of his coffee mug brings him back to the present in an alarming fashion and he’s able to tear his eyes away from where he saw the phantom.

_Not real. He wasn’t there._

Still, he cannot help the way he shakes when he tries to clean the shards of glass on the ground. He ends up cutting his finger on a particularly sharp piece. Hissing in pain he reels back, gripping his hand and he stares at it for a moment longer before he moves back inside.

He searches the cabinets in his bathroom for some first aid and when he finds some gauze he’s able to successfully close the wound. He just has to wait until he can get his hands on some restoratives and- he remembers.

There are none.

* * *

 He finds himself at the library again, eyes searching warily for any sign of _that_ again, the stinging in his hand from the cut still ever so present. He can’t seem to read his material with the paranoia gripping his mind.

He leaves at around five in the afternoon, choosing instead to take a walk in the park to clear his head.

He’s lost in thought when he hears a voice behind him, “Ignis?”

He spins around, startled at best and he _gapes_ , “Lady Lunafreya?”

Oh he’s in trouble, he didn’t even think to put the others being here into consideration. He should have, in retrospect, he’d been too busy wallowing in his own misery.

Also. She’s alive. Lunafreya is alive, oh thank the astrals. What happened to her was a tragedy, one he felt guilty for (he was too late.) At least she was granted this…

“It’s so good to finally see you.”

However, this isn’t good for him. He’s been getting by on the simple fact no one recognizes him. But now there is someone who recognizes him and he has no idea what to say, he just stares in shock.

“Oh, yes this may be a bit of a surprise to you. This is your doing isn’t it?” She gestures vaguely around them.

“My…? Oh… oh you-”

“Know? Yes. One simply doesn’t come back to life without knowing a few things.”

Shit. Well at least he’s not alone in knowing of this mess. He was bound to get to know her had things in Altissia gone differently for her, but he hadn’t even _thought_ of the possibility of _this_ happening.

“Ah… Yes, I think I did this. My memories on what exactly happened are fuzzy at best. Perhaps we should discuss this somewhere else? There could be people eavesdropping in on our conversation.”

“Oh, of course. Do you live nearby?”

Ignis nods, “A couple of blocks, I have an apartment.”

She nods and takes a few steps to walk beside him, “Then lead the way.”

* * *

 Lunafreya is far different than what he initially thought her to be. Of course, she held herself high and with confidence he could not hope to rival, but there was more to her than that. She certainly seemed to be adapting better than he’s been. Perhaps it’s the new freedoms that come with not living a life of expectations, finally getting out, living a life for herself than some destiny.

_Living._  That must be another reason she so joyously points out little things to him as they walked to his place. How much she loved the little birds and how intriguing people are when not affected so intimately by war. She makes him wish he wasn’t so jaded.

She has a sense of humor, too, one he can’t quite keep up with, and all these little things made Ignis realize why Noctis had loved her. He’s not jealous, no, it was an arrangement he’d long gotten over, he just… _understands_ now.

When they finally end up at his apartment he offers to make some food but she declines and decides to give herself a tour of the place. He’s not quick enough to stop her from going on the balcony, though.

“Ignis, you have broken glass out here.”

He’s able to step in front of her, a broom and dustpan in hand, not wishing to repeat his first mistake, “Yes, my apologies, Lady Lunafreya-”

“Please, just Luna.”

“-I accidentally dropped my mug earlier this morning. I’d meant to clean it up but it seemed to have slipped my mind.”

She looks at the broken glass he’s sweeping up, then to his bandaged hand. Without warning she grabs it off the broom and looks at it, a frown on her face.

“I… cut my hand, I properly cleaned it so it shouldn’t get an infection if I keep it properly bandaged.”

She looks almost… frustrated at it and he realizes with clarity why that’s so.

“I understand.”

“I wish I could do something to quicken the process for you.”

She is a healer to her very core.

“It’s not a problem I can’t handle. You cannot blame yourself for something you had no control over.”

She just hums in response and lets go of his hand, and moves out of the way so he can finish cleaning.

“You know… when Noctis told me about you he never said anything about how clumsy you are.”

“That’s because I’m not, for the most part. I never had the luxury of being clumsy, let alone around him.”  
“Oh…”

“It was a simple lapse in judgment is all. Sometimes things happen and I cannot do anything to stop it.” There’s more weight to his words. More so than he intended. He hates it. Why is she so easy to talk to?

“Practice what you preach. You can’t blame yourself for something you had no control over.”

He hates not having control over a situation, least of all his own facilities. But he doesn’t tell her this. He bites his tongue in his response, instead moving to throw away the broken pieces. He offers a seat to Luna back inside while he prepares cups of coffee (a nice change to one cup.)

He watches as she takes a seat before he takes his own after setting down their cups.

Where to start?

“You’re in love with him,” Lunafreya ends up saying so matter of factly Ignis can’t help but feel as if he were a child caught sticking his hand in the cookie jar. She certainly isn’t holding back in her words, diving headfirst into the very depths of this entire situation.

He sighs and nods slowly, closing his eyes, “Desperately so…”

She seems to hesitate before saying anything, hands shifting to hold the warm cup in her hands closer. “He use to talk a lot about you in our notebook.”

“He did?”

“Yes… though I must admit some of it was complaining about vegetables you made him eat.”

Ignis chuckles lowly, a fond smile on his lips, “He always hated them.”

“I know, but you’ve done what no person has done before and hid it in is his food.”

They share a laugh before he frowns, brows knitting together. “Is it selfish of me to have a third chance? I already had an entire lifetime with him as… _more_ , is it selfish that I should ask for a second?”

Luna looks at him thoughtfully before, not saying anything for a while and he fears he might have crossed boundaries not meant to be crossed. “Well… Did you do it for yourself or for him?”

This causes him to pause. It’s a good question, one he’s afraid he doesn’t quite know the answer to yet. Was really all he did just for Noctis? The scars upon his face and arm were proof that _Yes, indeed_. But…

The nature of _this_ is so very different.

“I… saw him- _see him_. Here in this world and he- he doesn’t even know who I am. How am I to do anything for him if he doesn’t know, so I don’t try to mold him into someone I always knew.”

“You don’t.”

That hurt.

“You have to… start over. But… Ignis, you realize this is _better_ for you both? You won’t be starting as prince as retainer this time around, but rather as equals.”

He hadn’t thought about it that way, he was too busy wallowing in his own self-pity that the thought didn’t even occur to him. And to think he use to pride himself on his foresight.

“I suppose I never thought about it that way…”

“Your relationship will be fundamentally different, if not, better than what it had been in Eos.”

Ignis couldn’t help the small smile that found its way onto his lips, “Ah… I suppose this is what I really needed. Someone who understands my disposition to lend an ear.”

“I’m glad to be of help to you yet again.”

“Yet ag-?” Before he could finish his question she stood up, her phone buzzing in her hand.

“Oh, I’m sorry to cut this short, I need to go. Give me your phone.”

He blinks, confused, but obliges. He watches as she types something into it and hands it back to him, “I just gave you my contact. We should talk more often, as it seems I’m now stuck with you.”

“I could argue the same thing.”

She smiles in kind and waves before walking out.

He really should go out more often rather than lock himself away in his apartment.

* * *

 It’s true that he felt more at ease today than he had ever been in the past 3 weeks, but the question Lunafreya asked him keeps him up during the night. Was what he did for himself? Was he selfish to drag them from death’s doorsteps, to keep them from resting forevermore together, to reverse what could never be undone?

He turns on his side in his bed, eyes cast to his bandaged hand. Maybe he was selfish, in wanting another shot, another life where for _once_ tragedy doesn’t befall them. He wants it so much it makes his chest tighten and ache and…

For the first time since showing up…

He cries.

He ends up crying himself to sleep, curled in on himself and he’s never felt so small. So vulnerable. So messy. He was never one to let himself fall into his emotions, always trying to keep a level-head because astrals knows it he was the only one who could. But now he is not in a war zone, now he is not sitting at a table discussing skirmishes outside the city, now he is not staring a father in his eyes and seeing dismay about his son.

Now… now he is laying in bed, _alone_ and _missing_ Noctis.

Missing the hands he would hold when they were alone and sure no one was looking. Missing when they’d sneak out of the citadel as if they were children all over again. Missing when he’d laugh as Noctis smothered him in kisses. Missing the nicknames Noct gave him. Missing his love…

It was so very hard to let go, to move on, once he _had_ it. And he did… For a time, and Ignis will forever cherish the memories that no one will ever be able to share with him.

_This is a curse_ , he thinks to himself, and then, _a curse I brought upon myself_.

Because he painfully realizes what he did wasn’t entirely for Noctis, a soul so old and so worn and tired, but for himself, afraid to let go, afraid to move on. Fearful.

* * *

 He dreams of Noct that night, holding him in his arms, dancing to music he can’t quite remember, a waltz of some kind. It is a memory. And he’s truly happy in it, so unabashedly in love with Noctis and unafraid of what may come. It reminds him cruelly of what could have lasted...

“Momento mori, Ignis.” was what he was told on the fateful day. And he knows what it means, knows that it was all in tease by the lilt in his voice, the smile on his face before warping away from him and into the fray. A reminder for both of them that it will turn out okay, a comment Ignis once made a lifetime ago. It would be the last thing he heard from Noctis… _Remember that you will die._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh man i didn't intend to include luna originally but the prospect of a friendship between luna and ignis was too good to pass up. they can both yell about their idiot boyfriend together. i doubt lunoct will like be a thing but there will definitely be mentions of past lunoct from the "true timeline". also this is how the thing is.  
> true timeline -> ignis "resets" for alt timeline -> alt ending ends up sad so ignis "resets" for modern timeline -> ignis remembers All of them.


	3. Keystrokes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a single depression of a key on a keyboard, especially as a measure of work.

He wakes in a sweat once more, a dull ache coursing through his bones. A fire has been lit under his skin, licking at his nerves, sourcing from the scar around the very finger he donned the Ring of the Lucii. A reminder. Telling him of his foolishness, of the passion he once held in his heart setting his whole body ablaze. It hurt. He checks the time when he reaches for his phone on the nightstand. It’s 9am, which means he missed all five of his alarms. Time was he never slept in, and now look at him. Oh how far he has fallen.

He thinks he has a lot in common with Icarus; loving something— someone in his case, so much that they burned, that they fell, that they drowned in the depths of the ocean of despair…

And now he just curls in on himself, waiting for the pain to subside. It never does. Not at first. Sometimes it takes an entire day, sometimes a week. He’s lived with this condition since the second try, since he wore that ring and sacrificed his life. (Hoping that maybe if he died in Noct’s stead then Noctis wouldn’t have to die.) He feels as if a thousand suns are consuming his flesh. He stumbles out of bed in search of pain relievers, with each movement it feels like and old wound is opening up anew, though he knows it’s not. He eventually finds some and pops it in his mouth immediately. There is no instant relief and it’s _frustrating_ but he’ll have to manage. He wanders out into the living room and collapses on the couch, reaches for the remote, and turns on the television just to see what could possibly be on.

He gets a text from an unknown number halfway through an animated film about the Greek hero Hercules.

(  hey sorry abt what i said to u  )

(  ive been doing a lot of self reflection and u didnt deserve that  )

Ignis stares at the text in confusion.

(  i was a total jackass to u im really sorry  )

_What?_

 

(  Sorry, I have a new phone. Who is this?  )

(  it’s gladio  )

(  i guess i understand now why we broke up  )

He chokes on his own spit. _They what?_ Ignis looks up from his phone, mouth agape, brows furrowed. He should be surprised that Gladio’s here too, but he’s a bit more preoccupied by the fact that at one point or another they’d been dating.

He opens up another message tab, this time to Luna, and sends a screenshot of the conversation.

 

( Help. )

( Oh no. )

( Keep me updated )

Ignis squints at the screen, _Is she enjoying this?_

He _could_ tell him he has the wrong number. Yes, he _could_ do that. But then he would feel bad and also _Gladio’s here_ which he should be paying attention to. He had a bomb just dropped on him, though.

Leave him on read, maybe? Start ghosting him? Just what was their relationship like? Were they happy? He can’t even imagine dating Gladio, they never got along too well and constantly bickered back in Eos, especially before the world went dark.

He has no idea how to handle this situation. Clearly, it was a messy breakup if the apology was something to go off of. He could… _oh_ , how simply devious.

 

( I see, well I wasn’t even aware this happened. )

( I had a misadventure down some stairs and

forgot a few things. )

( oh shit )

( how long ago? )

 

( About a month or so. )

( fuck sounds about right )

 

( What? )

( we uh )

( that’s when we cut ties )

 

( Ah. )

Now he understands why his apartment was in disarray when he “awoke” and at least he has a decent cover should he have to interact with anyone else from his past here.

( i’m sorry )

 

( Doubtful it’s your fault. )

( I can handle it, I’m a grown man. )

( yeah uh )

( also )

( prompto says he misses u )

He receives a picture of Prompto looking despondent as he studies some book or another. So that’s how this is going to be. Well… he’s happy they’re alive, nonetheless, he doesn’t even want to think about what sort of things his _other self_ had done with those menaces.

 

( Tell him to suck it up and text me himself. )

( he’s a shy bi we all kno this lmao )

Ignis allows a small chuckle despite the circumstances of how he got back in contact with him.

 

( But of course. )

( want me to add u back to the gc? )

 

( That would be much appreciated. )

 

He ends up spending half the day catching up with Gladio and Prompto via text messages, which was quite the informative experience. For starts, “other Ignis” was in a polyamorous relationship with Gladio and Prompto for nearly two years after meeting as roommates. Then Ignis moved out and things got tense between he and Gladio, so the agreed on breaking up after charged words were exchanged. He and Prompto were still dating until Ignis called for a break so he could figure out his thoughts and take care of himself.

Which now, is rather unfortunate, not because of the relationship itself but because _now_ Ignis is more confused than ever. He feels bad because he wouldn’t even know where to start or how to even tell them “I’m not the Ignis you know.”

And the cherry on top of the whole situation is that apparently he’d been “pining after that cute sleepy guy” for months. And he can only image who that might be. (Of course, he knows it’s Noctis.)

He welcomes the distraction, though, allowing it to drown out his own mind and the pain that flickers through him. It distracts him from the bone crushing loneliness that weighs heavily on his chest.

It feels as if a liferaft had been thrown to him out in the middle of turbulent waters of his emotions. It’s enough, but only just in that his lonesome self clings to any human contact despite the unavoidable pain and guilt that may follow. The physical pains subside.

 

He feels it’s time. Time to pick himself up and _try_. Ignis glances at the map on his phone, then up at the sign on the building. The Performing Arts Center was free for anyone to use on Saturdays,  which he decided to give a shot. He moved around, familiarizing himself with the place before stumbling into one of the rooms with a piano. Ah, there’s his target.

It seems he’s struck his luck with hardly anyone around today because, whether he likes it or not, Noct hit the nail on the head. He is _absolutely terrified_ of performing for others excluding a very select few. He sits at the bench, opens it up, and tentatively places his fingers on the keys.

He takes a deep breath, it’s been a while since he’s played, in truth. He knows he’ll mess up a few times, is aware that with the lack of practice, and he knows there’s no one watching or listening but staring at the keys now makes them seem so much bigger than they are, so much more foreign.

He swallows down his nerves and looks at the sheet music. His fingers feel cold. He lets out another breath, allows himself to calm down and…

 

He is filled with a sense of nostalgia as he plays the haunting requiem. Of when he was still a child trying to impress the big grown adults with his big grown words. Of when he could hardly sit still always fidgeting with his hands or clicking his pen repetitively. Of when it was improper for a child of the court to be so rowdy and he was forced to sit still holding his breath all the while so that they might not look at him. Of when eventually his uncle put him into piano lessons so that he might find a way around that.

He remembers the first time he played the grand piano in the citadel’s ballroom. His new charge, (Prince Noctis at the age of four) followed him, gripping the bottom of Ignis’s own shirt the entire way. He can’t recall which song it was exactly that he played but he remembers how Noctis swung his legs off the edge of the bench-too-big-for-them and rocked side to side mirroring the metronome swaying as he played.

He remembers another time, before everything, when things were simpler yet all the same tense. It’s a lifetime ago, now. He’d found the grand piano, long stored away in another room (one he, of course, knew about) well taken care of by his own careful fingers. Noctis never went to the citadel anymore, what reason would he have with Ignis taking his stead in all the meetings? So he was surprised when he heard footsteps and turned to see him.

Noct was dressed up with a simple button up and a tie, dress shoes hitting loudly against the ground as he walked and Ignis quirked an eyebrow.

“Is there a special occasion I was somehow uninformed of?”

“No. Just ate with my dad is all.”

“Ah.”

“Have you played anything recently?”

“I was about to, but other than now? It’s been a few weeks. my job is rather demanding.”

Noct laughed quietly and sat down beside him on the bench-too-small-for-them. “Play something nice, Specs.”

“Any specific requests?”

“I’ll leave it up to you.”

“Alright, then. I may be a bit rusty so please forgive any mistakes.”

“What? _The_ Ignis Stupeo Scientia making mistakes?”

“Do you want me to play or not?”

“Alright, alright, I’ll shut up.”

He ended up playing a lullaby.

 

Ignis is brought back to the present when his own playing stops with no more notes left to play. And he’s left alone on the bench-too-big-for-one.

“Wow.”

The voice in the doorway completely catches him off guard and in a panic he slams his hands on the keys as he jumps forward, nearly hitting his head on it.

“Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I just… are you okay?”

He turns his head, face flushed with embarrassment and locks eyes with Noctis and any reprimand he had ready instantly left him. “It’s you.”

“Yeah, it’s me. What a coincidence? You didn’t answer my question.”

“Yes, I’m fine, just startled is all. What are you doing here?”

“Oh. I have a friend who was suppose to be here but I think she forgot. Heard someone playing and decided to check it out, sorry.”

He waves his hand in dismissal and shakes his head, “No, no, it’s fine. I wasn’t expecting an audience is all.”

Noctis moves into the room and stands beside him looking at the sheet music. “ _Sky of the Night's Light_? Never heard a song like this…”

Ignis clears his throat and looks at the piece, “Well, I should hope not. This is of my own composition.”

“It sounds like you were playing it with someone in mind.”

He does, he plays it with Noctis at his forethoughts, it’s always been Noctis… of when they were young and Noct had joked off handed about “my own theme.” Ignis took it seriously and they ended up writing it together.

“Do you play?”

“I use to mess around on it. One of my old friends played, he tried to show me how ince but we ended up goofing off instead.”

It reminds him painfully of when _they_ were children. “Such is youth.”

“I drove him up the wall about it.”

Ignis chuckles and subconsciously scoots over on the bench to make room for Noct to sit. He does sit, and for a fleeting moment everything feels _right_ and as it _should_ be.

“Well, if you’re not going to drive _me_ up the wall, I would be willing to teach you a thing or two.”

“Yeah, sure, I don’t have anything going on. Plus, I’ll get to hear you play more.”

He feels heat rise to his cheeks and looks down at the keys. “Right, well, let’s start in the basics.”

 

Ignis took a look at his watch and gaped, “Goodness, look at the time. I certainly didn’t mean to keep you this long.”

“Nah, I don’t mind. It was fun.”

He gathers his sheets and puts them in his case. He glances to Noct when he pulls out his phone.

“What’s your number?”

“Oh. Here, allow me,” he holds his hand out expectantly and Noct obliges, handing it over and watching intently as he puts his information in.

He holds it back out for Noct to take, “There.”

“Thanks. See ya around.”

He watches as Noctis leaves before he grabs his stuff and leaves too. That settles it then — he’s going to change his major. Not now, of course, at a later date when he’s still trying to reacquaint himself with the familiar white and black of the keys.

It’s a start, if anything, a step forward into the path of self discovery. Self discovery that he always put on hold, that he let go to waste, the he didn’t care enough about. Of course, he already had done some digging into his own person before, with his gender transition, to his discovery and love in the musical world, but that was the extent of it.

The more he thinks about it the more -- happy? no. giddy-- he becomes just thinking about it. If this is freedom then he will grab hold of it and never let go. He will clutch it to his chest like he had books when he was a child. If this is freedom, then he will be okay, he thinks. And for the first time in a long time, he relaxes his shoulders. He lets out a breath he’d been holding for himself for decades, and he smiles.

Luna was right.

Things are different. Things _will be_ different.

He gets  text shortly after leaving the building.

( i really enjoyed today we should hang out more )

( this is noctis btw )

Ignis smiles to himself and sends a short response.

 

( I would like that. I’ll be busy tomorrow, though. )

( Library? )

( sure )

( see you then specs )

Ah. _That name_. He frowns as he’s brutally dragged back down into reality with a crushing blow to his heart. It should be different. They should be different. And yet, no matter how much has changed, it seems some things won’t. He wants to tell him, he really does, but he doesn’t have the heart to explain the tragedies of their life prior.

Noctis is happier this way. When they speak of ignorance being bliss, this is what it must mean. To be unaware of how cruel life was, unaware how relentless life is in its tragedies. He curses this, he curses his memories, he curses the gods should they be eavesdropping. It’s not fair.

Life isn’t fair…

_So make it fair._

He will grab life by the tail and drag it behind him, will make it understand, and if he needs dirty hands then so be it. He will fight tooth and nail. Because that is all he knows.

 

“I was beginning to worry you wouldn’t show,” he says, looking up from the book he’s studying.

Noctis just laughs and sets down his bag, pulling out his own study material.

“How are your studies coming? Staying caught up in your work, I hope?” Ah, there it is, habit that he’ll never be able to break himself of.

“What are you, my teacher? Yeah, I’m keeping up. You?”

“Yes. Though… I am struggling a bit with some aspects. It’s quite a bit of information to take in.”

“ _The_ Ignis Stupeo Scientia struggling?”

Ignis says nothing to that, just looks at him curiously with a brow arched. He never told him his full name… Does he know? Does he remember?

“Oh. Uh. Right you never told me that did you.”

“Er-”

“Sorry I kinda… looked you up online.”

Ah. He sighs and looks back to his book, “And why, praytell, would you do that?”

“I mean… you wear a designer watch.”

“That I do.”

“So sue me for being curious. Your uncle founded The Sagefire. I ate there once with my dad a few years ago. The food was really good.”

“I should hope so.”

“I looked you up because I couldn’t shake the feeling I’ve seen you before.”

At this, Ignis pauses and looks up again, he shouldn’t raise his hopes that he means… _No, don’t be foolish._

“I saw you there. At The Sagefire. You cooked that day, and I remember my father calling you out because he wanted to meet the chef.”

“Ah… yes, I remember now.” He did not. This isn’t good. He’s completely out of his depth in the conversation, he doesn’t even _remember_ any of this. Least of all, he didn’t know he use to occasionally cook at his uncle’s world class restaurant.

Fantastic.

“Why aren’t you a world famous cook by now?”

Oh. He supposes he could answer this question, “Truth be told I don’t exactly like cooking for a living. It’s a hobby, if anything. I picked it up because I wanted to make someone close to me smile.”

“That sounds romantic.”

“We were young, he was sad. I didn’t know how to help.”

“Oh. I’m sure whatever he had was good, then.”

Ignis smiles privately to himself at this, “It was… Though, I would appreciate it if you never bring up my more… renowned life.”

“I get it. My dad runs a huge business for restoring antiques and making replicas of things. Movie props and stuff… So I get not wanting to talk about the family business.”

“Yes, thank you, Noct, I appreciate it.” The nickname slips from his mouth and as soon as it’s said he realizes his error. He inhales through his teeth. Noctis doesn’t seem to notice. He lets out a breath.

“So aside from looking up my personal history, did you find anything else that might be entertaining? Any rumors? Scathing reviews of my food?”

Noctis laughs and rolls his eyes, “I mean. It’s a niche enterprise so it hardly gets any coverage as it is. I mean… there _was_ this one article title that was like ‘The Rumor Come Out; Does Ignis Scientia Is Gay’?”

“The grammar sounds absolutely atrocious.”

“Honestly, how are you not taken yet? You’ve got the whole package.”

He feels his face heat up out of embarrassment and moves the book to hide his face behind. The whole entire conversation was embarrassing, really. Is this how Noct’s social interactions have become without him in his life? What a disaster.

Ignis clears his throat, trying to regain his composure. An alarm on his phone goes off and he quickly checks it. _Saved by the bell, it seems._ “Ah, I have to go to class now. We’ll have to finish our discussion on non-existent tabloids another time.”

“Yeah… sure.”

He nods and sets off.

 

That night Ignis dreams of Noctis dancing in starlight, a carefree expression on his face. He can’t pinpoint why, but it makes him feel inexplicably sad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i keep throwing wrenches into ignis's life but i'm trying to get the setup done so i can finally get to the main focus of the story. pacing's a little weird this chapter, i know. also i'm not like. tagging any past relationships bc i feel that wouldn't be fair to the ppl looking for that specific dynamic.  
> also IGNIS IS TRANS AND YOU CAN'T CHANGE MY MIND!!!!!!!!!

**Author's Note:**

> UPDATE: okay so, like,,, this became a multichapter project (whoops) because I feel there could be. So much to it and honestly if this ends up being a slowburn i'm gonna lose my fucking Shit because last time i tried writing a slowburn it took like 11 chapters and STILL they weren't together. so like ??? wish me luck!  
> UPDATE 2: UH I RENAMED THIS BC I WASNT HAPPY W THE NAME


End file.
